Returned
by Assemble-the-Avengers
Summary: "You don't have to do this, you know." She said gently, reaching over and pulling his hand free of the white knuckled grip on the armrest. "You know that I do." He said tightly. "He's been gone almost a year, Tasha. If I'm not ready, I never will be. He deserves more than my blowing off his funeral." Clintasha/Post Avengers PHILIVES
1. Chapter 1

Captain America risked a glance at his extremely volatile american teammate across the gym from where he had just entered. The archer was hunched forward, royally beating the crap out of the punching bag in front of him. Steve's super soldier enhanced eyes caught the blood staining his bruised knuckles from thirteen yards back. The muscles in his back were tight with tension and exhaustion, shimmering with the thick layers of sweat streaming down, curving around his muscles. Steve's eyes narrowed in knowing concern as he distantly wondered exactly how long the man had been down here. The blood stained lettering on the punching bag in front of him suggested much longer than was probably strictly healthy.

The Captain let it go given the date and moved over to the terf track circling the workout room before launching into a full blown sprint around the gym. It was a full hour and a half before Clint slowed his hand breaking, anger management, coping mechanism to a stop and sank to the floor against the wall, a water bottle clutched in his hand as he wiped at his sweat coated forehead with the back of his forearm. Steve stopped his running as well, and sat down beside him, panting heavily and accepting the water bottle Barton held out to him.

"Thanks." he said tightly as he screwed off the cap and tossed it into the trashcan on the other side of the refrigerator that Clint was leaning against. The archer nodded grimly and downed the contents of his plastic bottle, crushing the material in his fist. "Rough night?" Steve asked knowingly as the shorter man tipped his head back against the wall.

"Something like that." he responded tightly. The soldier was slightly surprised that the man's redheaded wife wasn't down here with him, cursing his ear off for hurting himself.

"Nat?" he asked simply.

"Asleep. Aleksandra woke up a grand total of six times." he laughed dryly, a small smile stretching across his face at the mention of his newborn daughter. The smile promptly faded a few moments later.

"You know, he'd be proud of you." Steve said hesitantly. Clint tensed up so fast it nearly gave the good captain whiplash.

"Nobody is proud of an assassin Rogers." he said darkly.

"You're married and you've got a daughter, Barton. I'd say he'd be pretty darn proud." he said certainly. Clint's eyebrow arched minutely and his hard expression softened to something sadder.

"Well, Cap, we'll never know if you're correct or not, now will we," he said with a sad smile as he picked himself up off the ground. Steve followed him with piercing blue eyes, knowing full well the feeling of loss and the desire to be left alone that came with it. He only nodded stiffly and waited until the archer had disappeared out of the gym to stand up and resume his work out.

Clint eased his bedroom door open to find Natasha passed out on the bed in a different position than he had left her in. That same fond smile momentarily reappeared the as he stared at the only two girls in the world that he would unquestionably die for, lying on top of the deep purple covers. Aleksandra's tiny body was curled up on her mom's chest, chubby cheeks squished against Natasha's sternum. The redhead's pale fingers were linked protectively over the brunette baby's back.

When he shut the door softly, Natasha's green eyes inevitably snapped open and Aleksandra whined softly as the surface she was sleeping on shifted only infinitesimally; assassin's daughter indeed.

"Mazokhistskiy idiotskaya amerikanskaya," Natasha hissed lowly, glaring at his hands. The corners of his tight lipped smile twitched. She was feisty and rude but she also married him.

"Izvinite." he replied softly, eyes shifting from his wife to his daughter. Her eyes lost some of their intense anger and she followed his gaze to the baby who's body rose up and down with her breathing. "He never got to meet her." he smiled nostalgically, leaning against the wall. Natasha fell silent. "He wasn't at our wedding either, Tasha." he was smiling, only because he couldn't help it while looking at his beautiful daughter. She was too much like Natasha. Only innocent and clean of the red that stained her parents hands.

"Not like he didn't know that it would happen eventually." she smiled gently. Clint's heartbreaking laugh morphed into a grimace and he sighed.

"He would've spoiled Leksi rotten." he chuckled wistfully.

"Yeah he would've." Natasha agreed quietly, fingers tracing absentminded patterns in her daughter's short brown hair.

"Aleksandra wouldn't even exist without him, and he never even got to meet her." he frowned. Natasha sighed and sat up, being careful not to jostle Aleks to much. Her hand splayed out across the baby's back to hold her in place as she used the other to push herself more smoothly off the bed. Natasha stepped in Clint's personal space and lifted her hand to the side of his tormented face. Aleksandra whined softly and Clint instinctively cupped his large hand around the back of her head, quieting her instantly.

"Phil would be proud of the man you've become." She whispered sincerely.

"He wouldn't. I haven't changed Tasha." He replied painfully. Natasha arched an eyebrow and glanced with meaningful disbelief down at the tiny baby in her arm. The pain intensified in his eyes and he leaned into Natasha's hand. She pulled away and shifted Aleks until she was in a better position from which Clint could take her.

"I have blood on my hands." He denied, taking a step back. The haunted look in his eyes made it clear that he meant more than in the literal sense.

"She doesn't care, Clint." She said fiercely. The archer sighed and watched as Natasha settled their daughter into the palms of his hands. She was so tiny.

The small baby girl, wrapped tightly in the red, white and blue blanket her godfather had given her, was resting in the palms of his hands, held away from his sweat drenched chest.

"You didn't kill him." Natasha whispered seriously.

"I may as well have."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I let Loki in Tasha." He breathed guiltily.

"Not your fault."

"I all but handed him over on a silver platter Natasha."

Natasha studied him for another minute before she stepped closer, forcing him to pull Aleksandra closer to his body.

"I forgive you. And so would he." She whispered the one thing she knew he couldn't deny. His shoulders sagged a little and Natasha took Aleks, gliding over to her crib in the corner before lowering the baby onto the pale blue mattress. She felt Clint behind her before she actually turned around. Natasha flattened her cold hand against his chest, feeling his erratically beating heart pulse under her fingers.

"Shower." She said simply, grabbing his hand and roughly dragging him across the floor into the bathroom.

"Tasha what're you...?" He asked in alarm as she closed the door quietly and flipped the lock.

"Shut up and strip Hawkeye." She growled under her breath as she pulled her v-neck top off over her head.

"But Aleks," he started.

"Will be fine. Jarvis will let us know if she wakes up." Natasha finished.

"What are doing Tasha?" He asked again.

"Tell me you want to be left alone and I'll leave." She whispered challengingly. He sighed and slid out of his basketball shorts.

They stepped into the oversized shower and Natasha pushed Clint back under the spray. Neither assassin's eyes wandered in slightest as she took his bloody hands and the washcloth they used on Aleks, rubbing it gently against his bloody and bruised knuckles until the physical blood was washed away. Clint watched her hands work and remained silent as she cleaned him up. Then when she had finished, he silently turned them until her bare back was up against his chest and reached for the shampoo. She didn't protest as he massaged the soap into her now mid shoulder blade length red hair.

"Tasha," he whispered in her ear. "I want to take her with us today."

"Okay." She agreed easily, turning around in the spray so that she could rinse the foam out. He nodded and they both stiffened as Jarvis' voice rang out over head.

"Agent Barton, I've been informed to notify you that Miss Barton has awakened."

"Me?" Clint arched an eyebrow. Natasha shrugged without opening her eyes or moving out from under the water.

"Applies to both of us doesn't it?" She murmured, rinsing the last of the soap from her hair.

Clint leaned forward and kissed her hard.

"Yeah. It does." He breathed.

"You go. I'm gonna finish up." She muttered against his lips. He nodded and stared at her suspiciously before grabbing his towel and stepping out.

Clint dressed quickly and swooped his fussing daughter out of her cradle.

"Hey there baby girl." He smiled gently as he swayed. Her cries quieted as she stared at him with big blue-grey eyes. He was humming softly before he really knew what he was doing. As his humming went on he slowly started to recognize the song and it sent another pang of guilt through his body.

Phil Coulson would hold to the claim that he never sang. When Clint had called him out on it one mission, long before Natasha had been inducted into their team, he had adamantly denied that he had been singing. Clint had let it go with a snicker about his being an old man, though the latent curiosity had never gone away. And now, he found himself singing the words to the song that he had never actively tried to memorize.

"Swing low, sweet chariot. Comin' for to carry me home..." He sang softly, watching as Aleks' tiny eyelids fluttered. "If you get there, before I do, Comin' for to carry me home, tell all my friends I'm comin' too, comin' for to carry me home," he inhaled shakily as he recalled Phil's voice singing the very words he was. "Swing low, sweet chariot, comin for to carry me home," he shifted one hand to lay on top of the baby's steadily rising and falling chest, gently fingering her cheek and smiling when he forehead crumpled in her sleep.

"He never admitted to singing that song." He chuckled to Natasha who had snuck up beside him.

"I know." She smiled, reaching around and brushing her hand over her baby's head.

"You want to dress her while I finish getting ready?" She asked lowly in his ear. He swallowed thickly and nodded, using all of his will power to step away from Natasha and walk through the door that led into their daughters adjoined nursery.

Holding her tightly to his toned chest, Clint moved over to the closet and picked out the first purple outfit he saw; even if Tasha would give him crap for it.

Unwrapping Aleksandra from the baby blanket she was secured in, he laid her down on the changing table as she started to fuss loudly.

He buttoned her into a slightly oversized dark lavender onesie that swallowed her tiny body and gently tugged a hat down over her light brown tufts of hair. It ended with Barton needing to roll it up a few times so that he could actually see her tightly shut eyelids. He took her captain America blanket and swaddled her tightly, effectively calming her down.

"Coulson would approve." Natasha laughed as Clint tucked the blanket tighter around her before lifting Aleksandra into his hands.

"Unhealthy obsession." Clint grumbled. Natasha smiled and reached around to pull down on her daughters hat.

"Arrogant Hawk." She smirked, smacking the back of his head.

"_Ow Tasha." _He grumbled childishly. He turned to see her in a pair of black skinny jeans and her leather jacket, staring at him without regret.

"Ready to head down?" She asked after another minute. He smiled in affirmation and readjusted Aleks' position in his arms as Natasha took his other hand and led the way out the door.

The second they stepped into the kitchen they were met with the sight of Steve dressed in black slacks and a grey button up, blue eyes lighting up hopefully when Clint and Natasha entered with his goddaughter. Bruce was coaching Tony through not burning the scrambled eggs sizzling in the pan. Thor was chatting softly with Jane while Pepper was seated at the kitchen table in a black dress, trying in vain to coax apple sauce into her one year old son.

Clint handed Aleks off to Steve, watching as she seemed to literally shrink in size in his palms. Natasha watched as he stalked over to stark and Banner, pushing them both out of the way as he finished cooking their breakfast. Natasha moved over to the fridge and pulled out one of the pre-made baby bottles that were there for babysitting purposes, and handed it to Steve who didn't look like he was going to be letting go of the baby girl anytime soon.

She then sat down across from Pepper, on TJ Stark's other side and watched in amusement as he adamantly refused his food.

"Nnnhho." He giggled, slapping his palm into the puddle of apple sauce, splattering his long sleeve dress shirt.

"Tony," Pepper called irritably. The billionaire appeared behind her in record time, kissing the top of her head. "You deal with your son. I'm going to go wash apple sauce out of my hair and try to appear somewhat decent looking." She said finally and stood up, leaving Tony staring at his smiling toddler.

"Yeah kid. You think pissing off mom is so funny. Just wait a few years." He grumbled, sitting down and staring at the mess of apple purée.

"Momma pissssss." The boy gurgled. Tony's eyes went wide.

"Oh." Natasha laughed darkly. "You're screwed, Stark." She smirked sadistically, standing again and ruffling her nephews hair.

"Hey Foster," she called as she crossed her arms and moved closer to the scientist and her husband.

"Yep?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Barton wants to bring Aleks along so you're free of babysitting duty." She said without any inflection. Jane grinned and nodded.

"I don't mind." She insisted. Natasha just smiled and took the empty seat between Thor and Cap.

"She's hungry." Steve noted fondly, watching the newborn drain the bottle in his hand. Natasha nodded and watched her husband as he carried the eggs and a plate of pancakes to the table.

"I'll take her back while you eat, Cap." She held her arms out and watched as he reluctantly and gently to a point of reverence, transferred Aleksandra to her mothers arms. Clint grabbed two apples and tossed one to his wife who caught it effortlessly.

"Nat an I are gonna head out. See you there?" He called to the team, picking up the black backpack they used for Aleksandra's diaper bag. Tony waved and grumbled incoherently through a mouthful of food.

"We'll be right behind you." Bruce called after them. Clint smiled weakly over his shoulder and followed Natasha out the door.

They made their way down into the cold garage and gravitated immediately towards their red Acura, Clint climbing into the drivers seat as Natasha carefully buckled her daughter into her carseat, and tucked another blanket around her tiny body before strapping into the passenger seat and nodding at Clint who through the car into drive and sped out of the garage.

They were immediately pelted with rain and met with the darkness of a coming storm. Aleks whimpered softly from the back seat and Natasha tensed, waiting to see if she'd go back to sleep, only relaxing when she did.

"You don't have to do this, you know." She said gently, reaching over and pulling his hand free of the white knuckled grip on the armrest.

"You know that I do." He said tightly. "He's been gone almost a year, Tasha. If I'm not ready, I never will be. He deserves more than my blowing off his funeral."

The redhead squeezed his hand as her only reply and kept an eye on the flooded road.

They reached Arlington Cemetary within the hour, where Phil was only being buried because of certain strings pulled and hackers used by the Director himself. SHIELD didn't exist, and therefore neither didn't _Agent_ Phil Coulson.

Before he pulled his baby girl's carseat out of the backseat, he flipped the visor down to protect her body from the rain coming down on them and shoved his sunglasses onto his face despite the dark weather.

There were a grand total of two people there when Clint and Natasha arrived, Agent Hill and Director Fury being among the small handful of people who knew of his existence and had grown to be friends with him. Clint shifted Aleksandra's carrier in his hand as he observed the grim faces of his bosses and turned to find the closed casket containing his best friend and brother.

His bosses only nodded and the assassin's nodded back, but no words were exchanged.

Not even when the small Stark family appeared; TJ clinging tightly to his mother and Tony walking behind them, holding a black umbrella. Bruce was close behind, not minding the rain soaking through his khaki jacket and dark brown hair. Thor and Jane were next, the rain suspiciously missing Janes body as she shivered under Thor's arm. And Steve was last, looking almost as grim as the two other SHIELD agents.

"Barton," Fury started lowly. "If you'd like to start." He continued, nodding to the podium. Clint took a deep shaky breath and nodded, passing Aleksandra's carseat over to his wife, squeezing her hand tightly before letting go and walking forward.

Natasha watched Clint intently as he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, only looking away to nod gratefully at Steve when he stepped up beside her, moving his umbrella sideways so that he was shielding both Barton girls from the rain. As Clint got ready to start his speech, Aleksandra started to cry softly from her carseat-turned-nest, which led to her mom setting it on the soggy ground and disentangeling her swaddled body from the many blankets, holding her tightly to her chest.

"You know," Clint started roughly. Aleks quieted instantly at the sound of her dad's voice.

_Daddy's girl._

"Phil Coulson was an idiot." he said seriously, tracking a hand back through his hair. "The guy had a million ties and loved them more than his car. And anyone who knew him, knows that is saying something." he chuckled into the microphone, only to sober immediately and look down with agonized eyes. "But then, he always told me there was a fine line between bravery and stupidity. So which does that make him?" he asked rhetorically. "Either way, I owe my life to the man. He brought me in. Did a da-" his eyes fell on TJ who was watching sleepily, head pillowed on his dad's shoulder. "Darn good job of shaping me up and protecting me, even if I didn't deserve it." he met Natasha's eyes and swallowed thickly. "He always believed anyone, no matter what you'd done in the past as long as you were trying your hardest to make it right now, deserved a second chance and deserved to be happy." Natasha's eyes didn't waver from him as he repeated the very words Coulson had told her on a roof in Argentina.

Rain was soaking through his black leather jacket, and dripping from his hair. "And because of him, I'm married." He smiled weakly. "With a daughter." He looked up at the rain and shut his eyes tightly before continuing. "He knew I proposed to her. Long before the avengers. I'd already asked him to be my best man. He accepted, of course." His nostalgic smile tightened. "And he'll never meet Aleksandra. But he was the best man I ever had the pleasure of working with. And all I can say is at least he died honorably. We don't all get that. And he of all people deserved it." Clint cleared his throat and smiled tightly, nodding at everyone before stepping down from the podium and taking his spot by Natasha again. With one hand on Natasha's lower back, Clint leaned around to press a long kiss to Aleksandra's head. Natasha could feel the slight shaking of the bruising pressure he was applying to her hip, and stiffened slightly, knowing he would break down sooner rather than later.

The Barton family stood ramrod straight, listening and watching quietly as the rest of the men, plus Maria Hill, spoke about their fallen friend.

But none of them knew Phil like Clint did.

_Not a single one. _

Not even Natasha. But she was easily second.

And when the service had ended, and they had lower Phil Coulson's body into the ground, the people filed out, one by one, slapping Clint's shoulder as they passed. Bruce stopped at the man's shoulder and lowered his voice.

"Are you coming back tonight?" he asked quietly.

"We need to go home for a few days." Clint spoke through gritted teeth.

"Do what you have to do." Bruce replied. "So long as you come back eventually." He added, squeezing his friend's shoulder once more before following after Tony.

Clint slid Aleks out of Natasha's arms and held the baby girl tightly to his chest, pulling his leather jacket over her body to shield her from the rain. He dipped his head and took Natasha's hand, threading their fingers together before pulling her forward.

"Hey Phil." He said quietly. _So quietly _that Natasha had to strain her ears to hear him over the pounding rain. Natasha squeezed his hand reassuringly. He glanced down at Aleks who was whimpering in response to the cold, eyes squeezing shut, tiny lips parted. "This is Aleksandra Katherine Barton." He smiled gently. "You were right." He chuckled lowly, staring at the granite headstone. Natasha brought their hands up and kissed their interlaced fingers. Natasha dropped down to one knee in the wet grass and put a hand on top of the slab of stone.

"Thanks Phil." She said simply before standing and taking Aleks back from Clint. She encased the baby in her toned arms and kissed Clint gently. "We'll wait for you in the car." She whispered. He nodded and followed her with his eyes as she picked up the car seat and walked back to the car. He fell to the ground hard and traced the engraved lettering with his calloused fingers.

"I miss you, Phil." He sighed painfully. "You were right about me. We got married. And Aleks…" he trailed off with a small smile. "She's beautiful, Phil. I wish she'd have gotten the chance to meet you. But she wouldn't even exist if you hadn't stalled Loki, saved us all." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'll take care of Juliana." He swore. "Izzy too." He breathed. "I've got your back, Coulson." He sighed, patting the headstone as he stood up. "Bye Phil."

Hawkeye stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and walked out to the parking lot. Natasha was leaning against the passenger door, watching him steadily as he neared her.

"Aleks strapped in?" he asked. She nodded once. "Ready to go home?" he asked, burying his face in the side of her neck. She nodded.

"You want to go see her?" she assumed softly. He nodded.

"Julia deserves to find out from someone she trusts." He breathed. "She thinks he's on an extended mission." He grimaced. Natasha carded a hand through his hair and nodded gently.

"I'll drive."

He nodded in agreement and slid into the passenger seat, leaning his head against the window as Natasha pulled out of the cemetery.

REVIEW IF YOU ENJOYED AND OR WANT MORE:)


	2. Chapter 2

Clint and Natasha had been sitting in the parking lot of their rundown apartment complex for the last twenty minutes, Clint _staring_ at the building.

He owned this building.

Literally.

He had moved in when he joined SHIELD, and had grown to care for some of the people he lived with. So when the drug lords who owned his building _then _gave everybody a generous _one hour _notice to pack up and move out, Clint dipped into his blood money for the first time since he had vowed _not to_ and purchased the building _from them._ That's when Phil had met Juliana.

Juliana Adestello was a woman who lived in his building, on the seventh floor, with her four year old daughter, Isabella. Phil had met her two years ago, when he had come to royally _kick his agent's butt_ for a disrespectful debrief that got him kicked off the base by Director Fury himself.

They had gotten in a screaming match at two in the morning and Juliana had showed up, hair a disaster, with the most _annoyed _expression on her face, and her, at the time, one ear old daughter on her hip. The gutsy woman had taken one look at the drawn guns and man-in-suit and surprisingly had paid them no attention except to reprimand them for their rude, loud and disruptive yelling.

Phil had apologized profusely and Juliana had pushed her hair back, moving Izzy across her body to her _other _hip. Clint had chuckled outright when Juliana had sized his handler up with an unimpressed look.

"What's your name, soldier?" she'd asked cautiously.

"Phil Coulson, ma'am." He answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well Mr. Coulson, you're buying me dinner. And paying for the babysitter." She'd told him firmly.

"Jules likes her sleep." Clint had interrupted, earning a glare from Phil. "I can watch Izzy." He'd added.

Phil had looked at him pleadingly _begging _his friend for help.

Clint's chest tightened at the memory and his fingers twitched in Natasha's hand. She looked at him and pursed her lips contemplatively.

"Want me to stay or go?" she asked simply, he glanced around his seat at Aleksandra's car seat.

"Come." He answered shortly before silently getting out of the car. He scooped Aleksandra out of the back and ushered Natasha inside ahead of him.

He swallowed thickly and squared his shoulders before knocking lightly. A dogs barking sounded on the other side of the door and a faint smile curled at Clint's mouth.

"Momma!" a familiar voice squealed. "Momma whozit?"

"Non lo so. Lucky, down." That was Juliana. He stiffened and only relaxed when Natasha's hand brushed seemingly accidentally across the width of his forearm. But she was the Black Widow. Nothing was accidental.

"Clint!" Juliana gasped in surprise.

"Hey Julia." He smiled. "Long time no see." He flashed the older woman a boyish grin and bounced Aleks in his arms as she whimpered.

"No kidding. You're in trouble young man. Not as much as Phil will be in, but still." She rolled her eyes and laughed, stuffing the hand that wasn't being occupied holding open the door deep in her sweatpants pocket. "Natasha, how are you doing, little Miss Russia?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Natasha flashed a pretty smile and shrugged.

"As well as can be expected in our line of work." She smiled wryly. Julia nodded and waved them inside, gasping when they stepped out of the dark hallway.

"Is this…?" she smiled widely, staring at the red, white and blue baby blanket.

"Aleksandra," he finished.

"Clint, she's gorgeous."

"That one's all Tasha." The archer chuckled as they made their way through the hallway. Upon hearing a familiar dog's bark for the second time, Clint handed Aleks off to Natasha just as his dog bounded around the corner and slammed into him.

"Hey bud. Ya miss me?" he asked softly, rubbing his dogs head.

"Clint!" a small girl shouted, as she too launched herself at the assassin. It was seeing Clint was Izzy that had first convinced Natasha that he was _lying _when he said he didn't need kids, not only was it a lie but he _wanted _them. Desperately.

"Hey Firecracker. How's it going?" he laughed, picking the four year old up off the ground.

"Where've you been? You fugaht us." She lisped in frustration.

"Never." Clint winked. "You been taking care of Pizza Dog for me?" he asked with a wide smile. Izzy nodded vigorously.

Juliana fell back beside Natasha and watched the boy she'd learned to care about like a son play with her daughter. Izzy's peals of laughter died down not much later and Clint sobered immediately, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Bedtime, Izzy. Clint will still be here tomorrow." Juliana called. Clint winked again at the four year old and put her back on the floor.

"I wouldn't mind putting her to bed. Good practice." Natasha lied smoothly. Julia nodded and laughed.

"Make sure you tell Nat what to do Izzy." Clint chuckled. Izzy nodded and bounded over to Natasha, Lucky following in the small girl's wake. Natasha sent Clint one last heavy look before she followed after the dog and the child with Aleksandra yawning widely in her arms.

Juliana's smile faded when she saw the utterly agonized look on Clint's face. She shook her head, dark black hair falling in front of her olive skin.

"Don't you dare come back after almost a year Clint Barton, just to…" she narrowed her eyes and swallowed thickly.

"Julia," he started, setting his jaw and holding her accusatory gaze. He backed her onto the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. "Julia, I am so sorry." He breathed sincerely.

"He wasn't… was never on a mission… was he?" she asked, chin quivering.

"No." he whispered inaudibly. "They wanted to see what they could do. If they could bring him back. I wanted to tell you." He swore. She nodded quickly and blinked rapidly, biting her bottom lip and looking away.

"You know…" she laughed humorlessly. "Izzy called him dad. Just before he left for New Mexico. Stupid man almost cried."

The look on her pale face was _gutting _him. Phil would've killed him for letting that look on his girlfriend's face.

Clint's eyes were _stinging. _

"Clint, what do I tell _her?" _she asked, face contorting as two tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I don't know Julia." He whispered painfully.

"Did he suffer?" she asked silently, staring at her hands.

Clint took a deep breath as the video footage mercilessly _slammed _into him.

"No." he lied perfectly. Julia nodded.

"Good. That's good." She took a deep breath to compose herself. "How long are you staying?"

"We don't know."

"Well I still make pancakes and hot chocolate on Mondays if you and Nat and your beautiful little girl want to stop by." She smiled forcibly, just as Natasha reentered the room, Lucky hot on her heels. That was her asking them to leave.

"Maybe we will. Thanks Jules." Clint smiled, standing up.

"Izzy's out like a light." Natasha noted.

"Thanks. Let yourselves out?" she smiled softly, the few wrinkles on her face becoming far more prominent in that moment. Clint nodded and stood, leaning to kiss the top of her forehead before escorting Natasha out.

As they left, Clint heard the sounds of Juliana's heartbreaking _sobs _before the door closed. And as he turned to ease it shut silently, his heart clenched when his eyes fell on Phil's favorite thing about Juliana Adestello; _her cello._

**TEN POINTS TO WHOEVER UNDERSTOOD THE COMIC BOOK REFERENCES. **

**REVIEW:) **


	3. Chapter 3

Lucky followed his owner obediently as the Barton family made their way down to the end of the hall to their _own _apartment. Natasha watched him, eyebrows furrowed as Clint stepped forward, hands buried in his pockets, head angled downward even as he banged his fist against the crappy old portrait that hung on the peeling grey wall, catching the key that clattered into his palm.

He unlocked his door, simultaneously slipping the spare key into his back pocket and pulling his switchblade out of the same one.

"Clear." He called. Lucky recognized the word as a command and bounded past Clint into the living room. Natasha lightly touched her hand to Clint's back between his shoulder blades, and leaned forward to kiss the back of his neck.

"I'm going to go change Aleks. I'll be back." She whispered. Clint nodded numbly and started forward when she made her way down the hall to their daughter's closet-turned-bedroom.

Hawkeye sat down on their torn up greenish brown couch, propping his elbows up on his knees. He stared ahead blankly for a few moments before his eyes grew painfully sad and he dropped his head into his hands. Lucky wiggled his way in between Clint's legs and sat down, whimpering as he pillowed his head on the man's thigh. Burying his hands in the Golden Retriever's fur, Clint tilted his to lean against the top of Lucky's. The dog, to his credit stayed still and let himself be nearly strangled by Hawkeye.

Natasha's countenance hardened as the feeling she hated _most _churned in her stomach; _helplessness_. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall watching her husband breakdown on his dog. She swallowed thickly and tilted her head sideways so that the hair would fall away from her face.

She let him be for another moment before she slid onto the couch beside him. Lucky licked the back of Clint's hand, and wagged his tail as Natasha shifted onto her knees and pulled Clint against her body, threading her long fingers through his hair. Clint clung to Natasha's jacket, breathing harshly into her neck. She can feel him trembling slightly under her hands and she thinks this is the closest she's ever seen him to crying. Lucky whimpered and splayed out to lie on the floor, staring sadly at Clint and Natasha. Natasha wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and sat there while he came the closest to crying that he allowed for himself.

The shaking stopped eventually, and Natasha slowly withdrew her arm from around him and disentangled her fingers from his hair. She stared at him cautiously and waited for him to speak first. He chuckled at her hesitancy and looked at her through his floppy, overgrown bangs, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I want to go see Kate tomorrow." He said gently. Natasha's eye twitched at the mention of Kate Bishop. "Tasha." He chided slightly.

"Why?" she asked, nose wrinkling in disgust when she realized she sounded like she was _whining. _He snickered and traced the curve of her ear.

"Because Tasha, we ended on pretty poor terms. And frankly, I miss her." he stated blandly, looking relatively irritated with the confession.

Natasha scowled and slapped Clint's hand away.

"Then go see your precious protégée." She snapped. Clint smiled goofily and grabbed her wrist before she could stalk away from him.

"Tasha, are you jealous of a kid?" he asked in amusement. She fixed him with a murderous glare and punched him in the gut. "_Agh." _He gasped. "_Tasha!" _he protested.

"I don't get _jealous_!" she hissed. Clint smirked and held up one hand in surrender.

"Whatever Tasha. Kate's like my little sister. You don't need to be angry." He reasoned.

"I'm going to bed Barton. Aleks will be awake in two hours and I'm _tired." _She snapped, standing up and making her way down the hall to their _own _bedroom.

"Night, boy." Clint chuckled tiredly and shook his head, patting Lucky's neck before he stood up and followed after Natasha.

Clint woke up to find Natasha unsurprisingly gone. He sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, padding quietly across the hall to find her sleeping lightly in their baby's rocking chair that had been recently angled towards the cradle.

"Hey." She muttered hoarsely, dragging a hand back through her tangled hair.

"I could sleep with my hearing aids in, you know." He winced guiltily. Natasha waved him off and pushed out of the chair.

"I don't mind getting up with her, Barton." She said reassuringly as she passed.

"Where are you going?" he asked in confusion as she walked out of their daughter's room.

"To get dressed." She whispered over her shoulder so as not to wake Aleksandra. "For breakfast." She elaborated when he still looked confused. "Assuming you want to go."

His eyes rapidly filled with appreciative love.

"That's what I thought." She smirked as she shut their bedroom door. Clint turned back to the crib to find Aleksandra blinking her big blue grey eyes at him.

"Hey baby girl." He cooed gently, his rough voice sounding out of place directed at his precious daughter. Aleksandra gurgled and Clint moved forward to lift her out of her cradle.

She was honestly one of the most beautiful things in his whole world. Aleksandra resembled Clint in that she had his dirty blonde hair and blue grey eyes, but her pale skin and pouty lips were from her mother. He found himself lost in his daughter's features until he heard Natasha's intentionally heavy footsteps on the carpet behind him. He turned to find her in skintight black skinny jeans, and a long grey tee shirt under a waist length black leather jacket. She had tamed her hair and left it falling in soft waves down her back.

"Go get ready Barton, before you turn _permanently _soft." She scoffed, easing Aleksandra into her hands.

Clint's eyes darkened and he leaned closer until she could _feel _rather than _hear _his teeth snapping together near her earlobe.

"_I'm not soft." _He growled dangerously, leaning away. By the tie Natasha turned to look at him, he was gone. She chuckled and looked down at her daughter.

She sighed and shook her head, lying Aleksandra down on the changing table before proceeding to zip her into a long sleeved, light blue, onesie. She whined and rolled under her mom's restricting hand as Natasha leaned over to sift through the few beanies they had for their small daughter, pulling a white one down over her head.

After clumsily swaddling Aleksandra, Natasha slung the diaper bag over her shoulder and cradled the baby in her other arm just as Clint emerged from their bedroom in a purple tee shirt, blue jeans and a grey hoodie.

"Falling back on old habits, are we Barton?" she rolled her eyes. He shrugged and grinned boyishly followed by a sharp whistle as he pulled open the front door. Lucky streaked past them, into the hall, only to obediently sit down and wait for them to catch up.

"You know, seeing Bishop will use up your _Women from my Past _pass for the year." She stated, eyes narrowed.

"There _is _nobody else, Tasha." He chuckled. "Only you."

"Don't be cheesy." She snapped as they neared Juliana Adestello's door. Lucky whined and pawed the door in anxious excitement. Clint winked at his wife and leaned against the doorframe, knocking sharply on the wood.

"Clint!" Izzy squealed when she flung the door open. Aleksandra fidgeted at the sensory overload.

"Firecracker!" he squealed mockingly, picking her up and tossing her into the air, eyeing his dog as he leapt onto their couch.

Natasha rolled her eyes and edged around them, dropping the bag on the floor beside the door. She swapped her baby to her other arm as she hesitantly stepped over the living room threshold into the kitchen.

"No Clinton, you cannot help me. I'm done, but I want to hold- Oh. Little Miss Russia, good morning." She grinned. Natasha smiled back uncomfortably and stepped forward to hand Aleksandra over.

"Clinton?" Natasha arched an eyebrow in amusement as Juliana took the newborn into her arms effortlessly.

"He hates it." Juliana chuckled.

Natasha took in the dull eyes, pale skin, and black circles but made no comment as she smirked in commandment.

"Clint e Isabella, la prima colazione!" she shouted, hushing the baby immediately after she'd closed her mouth.

"Clint?" Izzy hummed quietly as the archer carried her into the kitchen. Clint absorbed her tone and stiffened, stopping before he entered Juliana's range of hearing.

"What's up, Firecracker?" he asked softly.

"When's Phil coming home?" she asked tearfully. Clint felt his blood freeze.

"Izzy…" he hedged, doing his best to avoid Juliana's questioning eyes.

"Did he died?" she asked with far too much perception for a four year old.

_'Izzy called him dad before he left for New Mexico. Stupid man almost cried.' _

"Phil's not coming home, Isabella." He breathed painfully, forehead furrowing.

"Oh. Tell him I sayed 'I love you' when you see him, kay?" she hummed. Clint nodded solemnly.

"Got any leftover pizza?" he asked with a forced air of playfulness.

"Yeah!" she squealed. "For Pizza Dog!" Clint winked at her and set her down. Izzy chased Lucky into the kitchen and skipped over to the small freezer.

"Did she ask?" Juliana swallowed thickly. Clint nodded, jaw clenched. "What did you…?"

"Half-truth. Told her he's not coming home." He said lowly. Juliana nodded numbly and forced a shattered smile as her hands started shaking around the baby still lying in her arms. Clint touched a calming hand to her upper arm and eased Aleksandra away from her.

They sat down to their pancake-hot chocolate breakfast and ate through Clint's constant jabbering with Izzy about _anything and everything. _

"Make sure you say goodbye before you leave." Juliana murmured as Clint gave her a quick one armed hug at the front door. Clint gave her a half smile.

"Sure thing." he pulled his arm back and waited until she closed the door with the hand that wasn't holding Izzy tightly to her hip before he followed Natasha into the elevator.

"Do you even know where she moved to?" Natasha asked in exasperation, bouncing her fussy daughter. Clint gave her a disbelieving look.

"Tasha. You wound me." He pouted, grabbing his heart dramatically.

"Well the kid's not exactly stupid, she could've-" she cut herself off with a groan of frustration as Aleksandra continued to fidget and cry while they walked out into the parking lot.

"Hand her over." Clint chuckled, taking Aleks before Natasha could respond. He managed to quiet her by the time they'd gotten to their car.

"_Daddy's girl." _Natasha grumbled as she strapped herself into the passenger seat.

"Try to be nice to her." Clint sighed as they were speeding out of the parking lot.

"No promises."

**REVIEW! (Please)**


	4. Chapter 4

**HEYO. SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER. I WROTE YOU A CHAPTER THAT'S TWICE AS LONG AS USUAL TO MAKE UP FOR IT. **

Kate Bishop's apartment was in _Astoria. _It wasn't even _her _apartment per se. It technically belonged to Elijah Bradley. Though, who paid attention to technicalities in their world.

It caused her physical pain to admit that she had nowhere else to go after she left Barton's place. But that was the truth. Jessica Jones would've taken her in if Kate had been able to swallow her pride and ask for her help. But she couldn't (didn't, wouldn't). So that left her the option of the man she _swore _she had no feelings for.

She'd been mildly surprised to find that Patriot's apartment _wasn't_ fully decked out in red, white and blue. Although, his shield _was_ hung up on the wall above the fire place like she'd sarcastically suggested it would be on their mission with Noh-Var, (Kate would forever hold her opinion that it was and would always remain the most _awkward _mission she had ever operated). She'd mocked him for that one cliché for the first year of living with him. And Eli had of course let her, because he was in love with her. Always had been.

It took her two _years _to reciprocate any semblance of the emotion for him in return and even then, they fought more than she and Clint had.

"Pizza or Chinese?" Eli called as he pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"Chinese," Kate replied distractedly, focusing intently on restringing her bow. Her bow, Clint's bow…

_Technicalities._

The archer listened distractedly as her partner ordered takeout, fingers tracing the curve of her bow. Eli tossed his phone onto the coffee table and stood up from the chair he had been sitting in.

"Katie," he hedged questioningly, crouching down in front of her. She glanced up at him through her black hair and arched and eyebrow expectantly.

"Yes?" she drawled expectantly. Eli narrowed his brown eyes and stared at her. He hated when she got defensive; she was good at shutting him out.

Then again practice makes perfect.

He weighed the probability of her maiming him for touching Joy against his willingness to let her drown in whatever was poisoning her from the inside out. He took a steady breath and closed his hand around the wooden frame of her bow and watched her eyes darken as he pulled Joy out of her hand, only to set her gently on the cracking glass coffee table behind him.

He watched her cautiously for a moment, waiting to see if she would calm down and open up to him or punch him and storm out of the apartment.

Kate rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and just stared at Eli for a minute, tensing reflexively when his hands came down to rest on her knees.

"Can I guess?" he asked quietly. Kate nodded sharply. "You're worried that when they take the cast off, you won't be able to shoot." He assumed softly, hand sliding along her thigh until he reached her stiff, plaster covered hand. The purple cast encased everything from her bicep to her knuckles, rendering her hand immobile for the last four months.

Not that she didn't try to shoot anyway. She did. And had ended up crying tears of pain, and _fear,_ until Eli found her at the range, pumped her system full of anesthetic and carried her home.

Kate feared the possibility of her skill having diminished during her time in a cast. She feared that her hand wouldn't be able to take the strain any more. She feared being _worthless _without her perfect shot.

"Katie," Eli started with a small smile and serious eyes, reaching forward to tuck her bangs back behind her ear only for them to fall forward again. "Your abilities, they're innate. You were born with them. They aren't going to go away after two months. And Kate, even if you _aren't _a perfect shot anymore, you can fight. You're good enough at hand to hand that the team won't boot you. I won't leave you." He chuckled under his breath at the mere idea of his leaving her after spending so much time to get them where they were now.

Kate leaned forward and braced her elbows against his toned shoulders, wrapping her arm around his neck, letting her cast dangle to prevent herself from hitting him in the head. Elijah's hands slid back to lock around her waist as he stood, albeit a little shakily, Kate's feet rising off the floor as she kissed him hard.

That was the closest he'd get to a 'thank you'.

"Eli," she muttered against his mouth, leaning back in his arms.

"Hm?" he hummed irritably.

"Door." She replied, sounding just as agitated.

"Not hungry." He grumbled back, leaning in to kiss her again.

"I am." She shot back, sticking her tongue out and letting her legs fall from his hips. Her hand slid off his bald head and she kissed his cheek before making her way to the door while Elijah sat down on the couch and pouted.

She was already reaching for the jar of _Take-Out Money _as she opened the door.

"Hey Katie." A quiet voice called. Kate Bishop's head snapped back to stare at the person standing on the other side of the threshold. She let her casted hand fall away from the glass jar as she _stared _at the first Hawkeye.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Wham. _

"_Kate!" _Barton wailed, doubling over and clutching his face. The redhead behind him just bounced a small child who was crying in response to the noise.

"I told you." She muttered lowly.

"Shut up Tasha." He wheezed, pulling his hand away to find it red with a thin layer of blood. Kate's nose and mouth were contracted in pain as she flexed her fingers.

_Yeah. She used her broken hand. So what. _

The fact that she'd punched the man full in the face with her cast explained the waffle pattern across his cheekbone, and the sluggishly bleeding squares scattered across his skin.

"Bishop," Natasha greeted coolly.

"Romanoff," the dark haired girl replied.

"Kate, what's- Barton?" Eli scowled.

"You live with this kid? Really Kate?" Barton countered. "Star spangled of all the people who would've taken you in?" he continued skeptically. "Jess would've, Katie." He said quietly. "You didn't have to move in with this moral compass."

Eli growled under his breath and flattened his palm against Kate's lower back, inclining his head towards her ear. "Your hand?" he asked softly. She nodded stiffly and gave him a tight smile.

"Eli." She said firmly. "Take a walk."

"I'm not leaving you with- " he started fiercely. It was Clint's turn to growl menacingly; as _if _he'd even _consider _hurting her.

"Yes you are." She cut him off, glaring angrily. If he started babying her she was _out. _

And he knew that.

Eli gritted his teeth and turned the girl's body so that he could kiss her hard before sending a glare in the other guy's direction, shoving past him and stalking down the stairs.

"So you and Bradley?" Clint asked in gravelly voice.

"Not your business, Barton." Kate said evenly. "Why are you here?" she asked blankly.

"I…" he started weakly.

"Romanoff, there's vodka in the cabinet if you're still into that sort of thing." Kate cut him off, waving the redhead assassin inside. "Milk for the kid, or whatever. Help yourself." She said, rubbing the back of her neck. Natasha nodded her thanks and slid past both the archer's, padding across the carpet to the small kitchen. "You have twenty seconds to prove you're here for a good reason before I shoot you in the arm and slam this door on your bleeding body." She said blandly, looking at her watch for show.

"Katie, I _know _you're mad at me for letting you leave but I wasn't,"

"You think that's why I'm angry, Barton? Do you really think I'm that petty? You know why I'm pissed at you and unless you can man up and apologize, you should leave."

Clint took a deep breath and tracked a hand through his hair.

"I was embarrassed. I pushed you away because I couldn't handle what the job was doing to me. I was embarrassed because I lost it. I couldn't swallow my pride long enough to come after you and I'm _sorry." _He shifted awkwardly and stared at her with sincere honestly. Kate went to cross her arms reflexively and scowled angrily when she remembered her arm didn't bend like that.

"So instead you ignored my existence for ten years, replaced me with a new partner, got married, had a kid, became a superhero and made _sure _you didn't have time to find me." She shot back bemusedly, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm apologizing now Katie." He whispered vulnerably, silently pleading with her to forgive him.

"Why?" she asked skeptically. He blew out a sharp breath and clenched his fists. Kate narrowed her eyes cautiously at his reaction.

"Phil died, Katie. KIA." He breathed painfully.

"Coulson?" she confirmed. He nodded once. Old instincts made her want to comfort him, just to get that heartbreakingly _sad _look off his stupid face. But she didn't move. "Sorry." She said softly instead. He looked away and took a moment to school his features before speaking again.

"The man was my best friend, Kate. I didn't want to find out something had happened… to you and regret that I'd never apologized or at least tried to make things right." He sighed, rubbing his face only to grimace a second later, remembering his split and bleeding cheekbone. "I miss you, Kate." He said sincerely. Kate stared at him for and minute and both archer's engaged in something like a staring contest, neither Hawkeye wanting to be the first to back down.

Clint had to actively work at not flinching when Kate suddenly moved towards him. He watched her skeptically for a second, tensing when her arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him down, and closer to her level. He only relaxed when he noted that she _wasn't _trying to strangle him.

"I missed you too, Clint." She whispered as his arms wrapped around the kid's back. His eyes closed and he exhaled in relief.

They pulled apart a little while later and Kate waved Clint inside. Natasha was sitting on the couch, glass of vodka in one hand, baby in the other. Clint made his way around the couch to lean against the back of it, one hand in Aleksandra's hair and the other on Tasha's shoulder, thumb stroking her skin soothingly to try and ease some of the tension from her posture. Kate continued into the kitchen and wrenched open the freezer, pulling out a blue tray and banging it against the inside of the metal sink. She scooped some of the ice into a plastic bag and sloppily wrapped a towel around it with her one working hand.

"I see your wardrobe hasn't changed much." She noted in quiet amusement as she tossed the ice at her old mentor, sitting down across from him and his family.

"No ma'am." He smirked, holding it to his face.

"So what's the kid's name?" she asked, nodding at the baby in the Russian's arm. A small smile twitched at Clint's mouth. "What?" she hedged at the look on his face.

"Aleksandra." He answered. "Aleksandra Katherine Barton actually." He added. He watched Kate's face go blank and then disbelief filled her eyes.

"I'm flattered Hawkboy, but why?" Kate asked suspiciously, angling her head away from them but keeping her eyes on the baby.

"I already told you I missed you Katie." He smirked boyishly. Kate and Natasha rolled their eyes, almost in synchronization.

"You want to hold her, Bishop?" Natasha asked, already shifting her position to get up.

"I'll probably give her a concussion with my cast." She denied, glowering irritably. Natasha shrugged and moved over to her.

"She's Barton's kid. She's got a thick skull." Natasha assured her, helping Kate settle the baby in the crook of her good arm.

"Hey," Barton whined in protestation. Kate looked down at the baby and raised her casted arm to stroke her chubby cheek.

"Not bad for a couple assassins." She muttered distractedly.

"Just so you know," Natasha started, arching an eyebrow in the direction of the door. "Your boy's been hiding in the hallway for the last six minutes." She said bemusedly.

"I know." Kate grinned, looking over her shoulder. "Eli, you can come back in." she said, in no more than a whisper. To Natasha's surprise, the kid who had been waiting at the _end _of the hall appeared a second later.

"Super hearing. Don't look so surprised Red." He smiled warmly, having heard the whole conversation, Barton's apology included. Elijah Bradley wasn't one to hold grudges. Unless it was against a certain Kree by the name of Noh-Var. But that was validated. He gravitated immediately towards Kate and put both hands on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. "She's a pretty girl, Hawk." Eli noted respectfully, looking at the baby in his partner's arm. Clint nodded in thanks and watched as Eli whispered something in Kate's ear before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Seriously, Katie, what's that about?" he asked in confusion. Kate took a deep breath and looked at the bathroom door.

"I couldn't ask Jess. I'd already told her about…" she swallowed thickly. "Derek." She spoke the name with so much fear and hatred that Clint nearly flinched at the memory of how he found her after her father called a meeting with her. "I'd already talked to her about Central Park." She said quietly. "She helped me get past those things. I couldn't ask her for anything more. Besides, after the little cat fight between you two…" she smirked. "I had nowhere else to go. Eli was more than willing to let me crash here for a little while and I just…he grew on me." She smirked up at Eli as he exited the bathroom.

"Thank goodness for that." He smiled back, leaning to kiss her temple. He handed her a bottle of water and another bottle of pills before looking back and forth between Clint and Natasha. "Do you mind?" Eli asked sheepishly, glancing meaningfully at the baby.

"Go ahead." Natasha shrugged, squeezing Clint's hand reassuringly when he tensed. Eli eased Aleksandra from Kate's arm to his own, dwarfing her in his large hands.

Kate swallowed a pill from the bottle, nose crinkling in disgust.

"Open fracture, antibiotics." She explained.

"Ah." Clint nodded. Kate looked back over her shoulder at Elijah holding Aleksandra and smiled, reaching back to pat his arm.

"You three want to join us for dinner? Didn't order enough take out but we could go out." Eli suggested, straightening his posture a little. Clint looked at Natasha for confirmation, hardly even getting an expression in return.

"Sure, that sounds- One second." Clint sighed as his SHIELD issued phone started buzzing in his leather jacket pocket. He answered with a thoroughly annoyed expression on his face. "What do you want Fury?" he grumbled.

"We need you to come in. Romanoff as well." His voice rumbled through the speaker.

"No." Clint said simply.

"What do you mean _no_, agent?"

"I mean _no, _we're on leave. Find someone else."

"Barton, you're going to want this mission." Fury said gravely.

"Do tell?" Clint muttered.

"A friend of yours has been captured, is currently being experimented on, and you and Romanoff are the only two qualified for an extraction."

"Who is it, Nick?" Clint asked tiredly.

The line was silent for a moment.

"Coulson."

**REVIEW IF YOU LIKED AND IF YOU WANT MORE. **

**ALSO. I WILL GIVE SHOUTOUTS TO ANYONE WHO CAN LIST AT LEAST THREE COMIC BOOK ALLUSIONS. **

**PEACE.**


End file.
